


Light Reading

by Fenris



Series: Radio and Literature [2]
Category: Forever Knight
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-04
Updated: 2010-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/98109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenris/pseuds/Fenris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Station Break.  1998 FK Fan Fiction Awards winner (squee!), Adult Novelette Category</p><p>Nick was ready for it; had in a way been looking forward to a cathartic battle with Lacroix, though not the cathartic (for Lacroix) beating his master would most likely tack on to it afterward, after which he'd hoped they could sit, drink, and hopefully talk while they both healed.</p><p>But it didn't happen, and after the first week went by Nick had to admit to himself that it wasn't going to be that easy. Lacroix had evidently gotten himself under control in time to opt for planning something much more devastating than a mere beating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Reading

**Author's Note:**

> Follows immediately after the events of Station Break.

A classic 1962 aqua Cadillac cruised along the main streets of Toronto, carrying its increasingly nervous owner to work.

It was ten days after Nick's impromptu guest shot on the Nightcrawler's radio show, and still no repercussions had hit. Nick was growing more and more apprehensive every day. This was not the outcome he had expected. He knew LaCroix wouldn't let his special visit to CERK go unpunished, and he had prepared himself for the mother of all fights with his furious master, followed by the mother of all beatings LaCroix had ever administered to him.

Nick was ready for it; had in a way been looking forward to a cathartic battle with LaCroix, (though not the cathartic (for LaCroix) pounding his master would most likely tack on to it afterward) after which he'd hoped they could sit, drink, and hopefully talk while they both healed.

But it didn't happen, and after the first week went by Nick had to admit to himself that it wasn't going to be that easy. LaCroix had evidently gotten himself under control in time to opt for planning something much more devastating than a mere beating.

A car horn blared behind him, and Nick realized with a start that he was sitting in an intersection, oblivious to the green light in front of him. The horn sounded again, and Nick threw the Caddy into drive with an annoyed snarl. _Damn it, LaCroix hasn't even spoken to me yet, and I'm letting him get me all in a stew! Get a grip on yourself, Nicholas!_

Nick pulled in to the parking lot behind the Coroner's Building. He needed to stop by the morgue and pick up some results and paperwork from Nat before he checked in at the precinct. Nick still hadn't worked up the nerve to tell her about his decision to halt his treatments, even though he hadn't drunk a protein shake in almost a month. (And felt much better as a result.) As he walked up the steps to the main entrance a thought hit him, stopping him dead in his tracks.

_Shit! I know what LaCroix did! He sent a tape of the whole thing to Nat, along with a long, *explicit* note explaining who his mystery guest was, and *exactly* what went on. That's why she hasn't returned my calls all week. I'm going to walk into the morgue and she's going to be standing there with a glass full of holy water to throw in my face. Then she's going to tell me what a bastard I am, and toss me out on my ass. Shit!_

He walked nervously into the morgue, half-expecting to meet a deluge of holy water and an indignant barrage of questions. Nat looked up from the report she was filling out and jumped up to hug him, a brilliant smile on her cherubic face.

"Nick! It's good to see you! You know, we haven't really had a chance to talk---I've been meaning to ask you, how was your camping trip? Did everything go all right? I'm sorry I didn't get back to you this week, my aunt was up visiting and I was out with her almost every night." She grinned and rolled her eyes. "You know, I love her, but it was exhausting! I ended up taking a couple of vacation days, myself."

Giddy with relief, Nick relaxed and happily filled her in on details of the remote places he'd visited and unusual animals he'd seen while in the deep Canadian boreal forest.

_All right,_ he thought, _LaCroix wasn't feeling heartless enough to tell Nat about what I did. And it also looks like I got lucky and it wasn't one of those rare times that she actually listened to his show._ Evidently, Nat had no idea of what he'd done at CERK.

Ridiculously happy, Nick was playful and upbeat for the rest of his short visit, and they had a genuinely relaxed, pleasant conversation. He left grinning, and hopped into the Caddy feeling very pleased with the world. Maybe his upcoming confession to Nat wouldn't be the disaster he feared it was going to be. Maybe, just maybe, he could salvage some sort of real closeness with her after all, despite the events of the past year---even if he did call a halt to the treatments.

A few blocks away from the station, another terrible thought hit him.

_Oh, no. I know what he did now! Of course he waited a while, so I'd be off guard...I'm going to walk in to the precinct, and there'll be a monstrous arrangement of red roses on my desk, with a big card attached---no envelope, of course---and it'll say something like,_

"Dearest Nicholas, with my sincerest appreciation---

Yours, the Nightcrawler"

That's exactly the kind of thing he'd do. I'm screwed. Nick bit his lower lip, following the distressing train of thought. _Oh, but the bouquet won't be the end of it, no.... after things start to die down, or I finally convince everyone it was just someone's stupid joke, he'll start sending, oh, say, a single red rosebud. Just from time to time, every once in a while. With another little note attached to each one. Just to make sure no one in the precinct forgets about me, the Nightcrawler, and his sincerest appreciation. Shit!_

But the precinct seemed no different than usual when he walked in. Reese was good-natured as always, with words of praise for Nick and Sammy's latest collar.   
Sammy was seated at Tracy's old desk (now his desk), regaling Shaw and Pendleton with a series of stunningly filthy jokes. He gave Nick his customary smile, nod and "Hey!" before turning back to continue the two men's higher education.

In other words, there were no signs of anything out of the ordinary. Nick sat down at his desk and immediately began to brood about what other forms of revenge his devious master might be plotting.

***************************************

Another week passed, and Nick was getting ready to climb the walls. No sign of LaCroix. No messages, no contact, nothing to even indicate that the old vampire was even aware of Nick's existence. If not for the fact that the Nightcrawler's show was still being broadcast live every night, Nick might have suspected that his master had left town.

Even his radio monologues no longer seemed aimed specifically at his errant son---instead, LaCroix simply expounded on various macabre subjects, whatever happened to strike his fancy during the evening.

This unprecedented silence weighed heavily on Nick's mind. He was used to having LaCroix pop up unexpectedly at least once a week when he *wasn't* angry with Nick. When he *was* angry...well, by all rights, and by past experience, LaCroix should have been haunting him constantly by now---making his every waking moment a misery until the old vampire felt his pride was sufficiently soothed.

As he sat down at his desk and attacked yet another stack of neglected paperwork, Nick wondered if LaCroix might simply be avoiding him.

Nick had crossed a boundary that had never been crossed before in any of their interminable battles with each other. LaCroix had made him feel like an utter idiot, tricked him into doing many things and manipulated him in many ways---but he had never made use of their sexual bond in duping Nick. It was one aspect of their tumultuous relationship that LaCroix never employed as a weapon.

Up until now, Nick had never used it that way either. He knew the idea that he might have genuinely wounded his sire shouldn't bother him one whit---LaCroix had done many things over the years that had made a furious, hurt Nick swear never to have anything to do with the bastard again. But it did bother him, more than he would have imagined it could. He crumpled the report in his hand into a tight ball and threw it savagely into the wastebasket.

"Yeah, I'm about there myself," drawled Sammy, watching Nick slam the wad of paper into the trash. He ran a hand through his short military-cut light brown hair, yawning. "Let's get goin', before I have to touch another one of these damn reports." Nick nodded and led the way out of the precinct room, silent and tight-lipped.

As they drove out of the parking lot he remained silent, frowning, engrossed in thought.

When all this began, Nick thought he had simply wanted to show LaCroix that if he wanted to, he could make his master's life difficult, too: that it wasn't a one-way street. He'd envisioned it eventually leading to a meeting with LaCroix---with Nick feeling a bit less like the disadvantaged party this time---and talking things out, possibly even resolving a few things. A chance for the two of them to maybe get a bit closer to re-forging the deep, strong friendship Nick had always mourned losing (though he'd never been able to admit it to himself, or his sire).

But there was another aspect to the situation which was becoming a real annoyance for Nick. And the more he thought about it, the more questions arose to plague him.

Grudgingly, he had to admit that there was more going on inside him than simply wanting a return to mornings spent discussing old battles and strategies, or evenings of attending plays and engaging in artistic debate. Nick could confess to himself now that he'd missed those things, and he looked wistfully forward to resuming that part of their long-crippled friendship. What disturbed Nick now was the dawning realization that he wanted a return to more than that.

It was becoming impossible for him to stop thinking about his brief, intense encounter with LaCroix. This was a reaction that Nick had never expected from himself, but...

More than once since the incident at CERK, he'd found himself drifting off into recalling details; following different versions of what might have happened, his imagination supplying a longer and more satisfying version of events each time---and then come back to reality sporting a massive hard-on. This was inconvenient to say the least, especially when it happened at his desk in the precinct room. Or in the car, while on patrol. Nick wasn't sure what Sammy's reaction would be if he noticed that his new partner was starting to get erections in his vicinity with increasing frequency---but he had a pretty good idea it wouldn't be quiet tolerance.

But...well, it was just so easy for him to start thinking about it. The sounds LaCroix had made, the way he had moved under his hands, the sheer pleasure on his face---and what seeing him like that had done to Nick inside. He could easily envision a different scenario, one where he had decided to delay his prank for another time and instead simply stayed to let LaCroix return the favor. That lush, inhumanly talented mouth busy at his throat and chest, one strong hand leisurely unbuckling his belt while the other moved slyly up his inner thigh to massage the close-to-bursting hardness inside his...

Nick came out of his trance with a violent start as Sammy smacked the back of the seat right next to his head, saying loudly, "Earth to Nick! Watch the _road_, dammit!"

Nick twitched the steering wheel and veered the Caddy back into the left lane, wincing as a car whizzed by perilously close to them, horn blaring. "Uh, sorry," he mumbled, feeling his face flush, grateful for the Caddy's dim interior lighting.

That did it. Nick had to face facts. There was more that he needed to discuss with his sire than merely reaching a closer accord with him. He hadn't thought that this aspect of their relationship was ever going to become a serious question again, but obviously it was. And it was something he needed to resolve with LaCroix very soon. _Hopefully,_ he thought, discretely adjusting his pants leg while an unnerved Sammy ranted about Nick's terrible driving skills, _before I end up driving my car into a tree_.

********************************************

About three hours before dawn, Nick returned to the loft. It had been a quiet patrol, but he felt exhausted. He settled down in the comfortable black leather chair with a glass of cow blood (another reason he needed to contact LaCroix soon---arranging a decent non-bovine supply of bottled blood) and glowered into the cold, dark recesses of his huge living room.

"This is ridiculous. I'm going to have to make the first move. It's probably just what he wants me to do, but at this point I don't care," he informed the silent living room.

Nick picked up the phone to call CERK. Halfway through tapping the numbers in he hesitated, then hung up. Calling LaCroix while he was sitting at the broadcast console was probably a *very* bad idea. He'd have to wait until daylight when LaCroix was at his townhouse, and call him then. Nick sighed and flopped down in a chair, disgruntled. He didn't like waiting, and now that he'd screwed up the resolve to go face his master and get this settled, he didn't want to wait another day. A thought suddenly occurred to Nick that gave him a tiny chill, deep in his gut.

Perhaps the truth of the matter was that his sire simply didn't want to have anything to do with him now---or ever. The idea that he might have finally succeeded in driving LaCroix away from him (predictably after he'd finally stopped desperately wanting that very thing to happen), gnawed at him and he growled in frustration.

_I've got to see him. I need to try and explain to him why I did it---well, other than that it was fun, and richly deserved---If we don't talk soon, this is going to turn into something very ugly, I know it. I'll go by the Raven tonight after his show ends. I think he still usually drops in there for an hour or two before dawn._

An hour later, Nick strolled into the nightclub and headed toward the bar, where he saw Miklos standing and watching the crowd. The quiet, easygoing Romany vampire had taken over ownership of the Raven after LaCroix had discretely announced to the Community that he was closing the establishment. Nick had not been surprised that his sire had shut the club down. He would found it stranger if LaCroix had chosen to keep on running the establishment, after what happened there with Divia.

Nick had been pleasantly surprised when Miklos had reappeared at that point, seeking to buy the Raven from LaCroix. Under Miklos' direction, the club now looked and felt much like it had when Janette ran it.

He felt none of the apprehension about entering the Raven that he'd felt about seeing Nat, or going to work at the precinct. Quite frankly, Nick did not give a blind rat's ass for the Community's opinion of him. He certainly didn't care that many of the Raven's vampiric clientele were doubtless aware of who the Nightcrawler's unscheduled guest had probably been. Being the sensually oriented creatures that they were, it was quite common for vampires to have sexual relations with their masters. The majority of Toronto's Community probably took it for granted that Nick and his sire were involved in that way---at least when they weren't openly at war.

He was, however, unprepared for the reception he got when he entered the Raven. There was a long moment of silence when Nick walked in the door. Most eyes were on him as he approached the bar, and he noticed several of the patrons glancing around. Probably checking for LaCroix, he thought. He'd looked around himself when he came in, half-expecting to see his master waiting for him, angry and yellow-eyed. But Nick sensed nothing of LaCroix, and was astonished when several of the regulars came over and greeted him warmly, huge shit-eating grins on their faces. A round of scattered applause and a few whistles followed him up to the bar where a smiling Miklos was polishing a wineglass and rummaging under the counter for a bottle of cow blood.

"Well, Nicola. It's good to see you looking so well." His dark eyes were dancing with amusement. "Can I get you something to drink?"

Nick smiled back at him, his eyes daring Miklos to say anything more. "Yes, you can. I'll take what they're having," he said, nodding toward the other patrons. Miklos raised an eyebrow and made a slight moue of surprise, then shrugged and reached under the counter for a bottle, switching it with the one he'd started to bring out.

Nick accepted the drink and took half of it in one swallow. Then he pointed out a small group of young vampires to Miklos. The group responded to his attention with cocky grins and waves, and one blown kiss.

"I take it LaCroix' not within ten miles of the club tonight?"

Miklos snorted, then chuckled. "You guess correctly, Nicola. Those youngsters would be avoiding you like the Black Plague, if he were around. And," he shook his head, anticipating Nick's next question, "I have no idea where he might be. If you're looking for him, you might try the townhouse."

"Thank you, Miklos."

"Anytime, Nicola. Don't be such a stranger, hey?"

Nick nodded, surprised, and smiled at Miklos, unexpectedly touched by the warm reception. Then he hastily drained his glass and left, aware that he had barely an hour before sunrise to find LaCroix.

His master's elegant townhouse, isolated on both sides by walls and tall shade maples, stood dark and silent. Nick knocked on the door, then listened on the doorstep for a few minutes, straining to detect any hint of LaCroix' presence. Nothing. Blowing out his breath in an exasperated whoosh, he turned and leaned back against the door, kicking at the stone steps in irritation.

_Damn it! For seven hundred years, I can't get the man out of my pockets, and when I *want* to find him, forget it! Quel emmerdeur..._

Disconsolate, he admitted defeat. He'd have to continue his search tomorrow night. Nick jogged down the granite stairs and glanced quickly around before launching himself into the lightening sky and heading for the loft.

********************************************

Nick opened the front door and froze as he detected a familiar aura.   
_I don't believe it,_ he thought, closing the door behind him. He looked around for a moment, then his gaze lit on his very unexpected visitor.

LaCroix was leaning against the back of the couch, facing him, a faintly smug look on his face.

"I don't believe it," Nick repeated, aloud this time. Reflexively, he smiled. For a brief moment, the only thought in his mind was to go to his sire and greet him. He took a few steps toward the old vampire, then stopped as LaCroix held up a hand, palm out, his expression darkening.

"Why so surprised, Nicholas? You were looking for me, weren't you? Well, here I am." His tone was icy.

_Uh-oh_. The penny was finally going to drop. Coming back to reality with a thud, Nick looked at him, suspicion plain on his face. "Well, I...why are you here?"

LaCroix sighed. "Nicholas. You were looking for me, not vice versa. I thought I'd save you the trouble of finding me by coming here and waiting for you. If you have nothing important to discuss, I'll leave." He stepped away from the couch and glanced up at the opened skylight. Nick shook his head and half-raised a hand toward his stony-faced mentor.

"No! Don't leave, LaCroix, please." The old vampire paused and looked at him, saying nothing. Nick hesitated, then plunged ahead. "I do want to talk, that's why I was looking for you."

Now that his master was actually here, Nick realized that he really didn't have a clue as to how he wanted to start this conversation. A bit helplessly, he gestured at the couch, "Please, sit down. I'm sorry, I don't have anything drinkable to offer you, but..." He trailed off as LaCroix smiled frostily.

"Actually, Nicholas..." the old vampire strolled to the refrigerator and opened it. Reaching in, he drew out a bottle and turned to Nick, who recognized the label and smiled despite himself, "You do. Glasses?"

Nick went to retrieve a couple of wine glasses, furtively watching LaCroix as he did, trying to gauge where this might be going. The old vampire handed him the bottle, then leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, and watched his son. As Nick set the glasses down on the table, he shot a quick, almost shy, glance sideways at the elder vampire's face and said, "Uh...how are you?"

LaCroix shrugged. "Je v'ai bien---I'm fine." His even tone and expressionless face gave Nick no clues as to his underlying mood. Their connection, tenuous at best these days, was completely silent. Nick cursed inwardly---LaCroix wasn't going to make this easy for him. Well, he hadn't really expected him to.

He poured two glasses of the aromatic blood wine and held one out to his master. As he did, Nick noticed LaCroix watching him with a raised eyebrow as he lifted the other glass of human vintage to his own lips and took a healthy sip. LaCroix stepped gracefully away from the counter and accepted the other glass without a word. After taking a taste and making a brief nod of approval at its contents, LaCroix moved silently past Nick, into the living room. He stopped in front of the massive carved fireplace and looked down at the cold, blackened grating. The dim lighting threw harsh shadows across his patrician features as he stared, motionless, into the dead remains of the last fire built there.

Visibly tense, Nick followed, stopping about five feet from the other vampire's back. Without turning to look at him, LaCroix spoke, his tone mildly curious. "Was that all you wanted to ask me, Nicholas?"

Nick drained his glass in one swallow, let his breath out in a whoosh, then relaxed a bit, smiling uncertainly.

"No, that's not all. I, uh, just don't know how to begin, really--for starters, I thought you might want to...talk about what happened." LaCroix said nothing, but turned to face him, frowning slightly. Nick pressed on, feeling less and less optimistic about the probable outcome of this conversation every second. The other vampire's outward mood, or more accurately the lack thereof, was confusing him badly. This was not like LaCroix. Nick knew his sire had to be furious with him, and expressing anger with his son was not something he'd ever known LaCroix to be shy about doing. He suppressed the urge to fidget nervously and forced himself to stay still. "You know, my, ah...visit. The radio station."

The other vampire finally turned to look at him. Heavy eyebrows raised slightly, LaCroix looked as if Nick had just reminded him of an interesting book he hadn't thought about in years.

"Ah! Yes, your debut into the field of broadcasting. Yes, Nicholas, I do remember." He took a step closer to Nick, who fought every sensible instinct in his body and remained still. A small icy smile quirked his sire's full lips. "In fact, I have about ninety or so taped copies of the show that various listeners have sent me. The majority were accompanied by requests to autograph them. In fact, most of the senders would like my...well, there were actually quite a few descriptive terms used, let's just go with boyfriend... to sign them also."

Nick clamped down an iron lid on the sudden burst of laughter that threatened to erupt, knowing that if he laughed now it would almost certainly be the last thing he ever did. He blinked, drew in a deep breath, and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, LaCroix was standing directly in front of him, pale blue eyes boring into his face. Suddenly any urge Nick had to laugh was gone. Glancing down, he saw LaCroix' hands close into fists. Again he fought down his first impulse, which was to jump back and put some flight distance between himself and his master. Instead, he looked up into the grim face.

Their gazes locked, and Nick stared into the winter-sky depths, trying to read what was moving beneath the unthawed ice in his sire's eyes, seeking some hint as to how to proceed. Failing, he shrugged internally, flung caution to the wind and simply spoke outright.

"LaCroix. You know, I expected you to show up long before this. Did you come here to fight, or simply to knock me around a bit? If that's it, let's get it over with, then. I really do want to talk to you, seriously, after this is over."

LaCroix raised an eyebrow at that, a flicker of some kind of emotion showing in his eyes for an instant, then it was gone and he simply looked amused.

"Nicholas, I would imagine that whatever painful thing you've been waiting for me to do to you far surpasses anything I've actually thought of. Though I haven't entirely ruled out breaking every bone in your body---or hypnotizing your Captain Reese into loudly announcing his all-consuming carnal passion for you in the midst of your workplace---I must admit that I've had second thoughts about seeking a violent resolution to our...conflict. This time."

Nick looked at him, openly skeptical. He didn't believe for a moment that his master was going to let him off lightly. "Please, LaCroix. I know better than that. You must be looking for some kind of payback." His master smiled, an action that did not soothe Nick's nerves, and purred,

"I never said anything about not wanting some kind of recompense, Nicholas. I do expect something from you in return." He paused, watching Nick intently. That flicker of expression was back now, glittering steadily in the pale eyes, and this time Nick recognized the look---it had just been a very long time since he had last seen it. Sharp desire, mingled with tangible anticipation of something imminent. "The first part of the experience was---not disagreeable. I think we will try it again, this time without an audience. If you manage well enough, I'll consider the matter closed."

For the second time Nick almost burst out laughing, this time at the irony of LaCroix offering as a punishment the very thing he'd been craving for almost a month now. _If he only knew,_ Nick thought. _Well, I imagine he probably will know before he leaves. This is a much better prelude for our talk than the free-for-all I was expecting._ Swift on the heels of that thought came another. _Of course, this still doesn't rule out the possibility of his seriously hurting me..._

Nick narrowed his eyes, considering. Though it sounded like an ultimatum, he knew that LaCroix would honor his wishes if Nick told him to leave. His sire had never outright forced him, and he doubted that he would try to do so now. Phrasing it like this was his master's way of saving face. If LaCroix ended up being overly rough this time, which Nick considered likely---well, they'd had violent sex before and he'd ended up enjoying it. Most importantly, Nick wanted this very badly---and felt a hot glow of excitement ignite in his belly at the proposal. The spark of heat moved down and centered in his groin. LaCroix moved in close, almost touching him and murmured,

"What do you say? I'll even do something for you this time, something a bit more direct... I imagine you'd like some more...personal attention, wouldn't you? Unless humping my leg like a randy mongrel was more satisfying than I imagine it was."

Nick looked away, angry and embarrassed at this reminder of his lack of self-control. Smiling, LaCroix leaned in closer and said in a low voice, "Don't be abashed by your reaction, mon fils. I found it very...appealing, that you were so affected by the whole thing. It's one of the reasons I didn't simply chase you down and break your legs."

LaCroix stepped smoothly to one side and moved behind him. Slowly, he ran a hand up the back of Nick's arm and across his neck, smiling when the younger vampire drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Nick stood still, fixated on the cool, feathery touch of LaCroix' fingertips as they drifted gently across the back of his neck, then traveled up the far side of his throat to trace the outline of one ear. A minute shiver passed through the younger vampire's body and Nick turned his head into the caress, uttering a faint moan. LaCroix chuckled softly. Nick knew the old vampire could sense the quick, sharp arousal his caress had produced. LaCroix moved closer, pressing himself lightly against Nick's back. Putting his lips close enough to brush against his son's ear, he whispered,

"Really, mon fils. So fast, and from such a slight touch. How long has it been, Nicholas? You know it's not good for you to go without for so long. It's not healthy." With the tip of his tongue he traced the outline of Nick's ear, dipping in briefly then exhaling slowly, sighing. The cool breath on his moistened skin sent shivers of arousal down Nick's spine and along his limbs. He felt sensitized, his skin alternately flushed and cool, painfully aware of every touch upon it.

LaCroix' arms wound around him and pulled him gently back against his sire's lean body. He heard a faint sigh from behind him as his buttocks were pressed firmly to the other's crotch. Nick smiled then and moved a bit, grinding lightly against the hardness he felt there. This small tease was rewarded by a tiny noise deep in his master's throat and a few slight, involuntary movements of the hips behind his. Long, pale hands roved over his chest and belly as Nick reached up and back with one hand to stroke his sire's face. Deftly, LaCroix undid a couple of buttons and slipped a hand inside Nick's shirt to finger one of his nipples. Nick groaned, his erection straining uncomfortably against the crotch of his jeans as the talented hand left the now-hard nub and moved to play with the other.

If this was part of some kind of revenge scheme of LaCroix', Nick didn't care. This was exactly what he'd been obsessing about for weeks---and right this second, his swiftly-mounting arousal was the only thing he wanted to think about. Grinning, he suddenly turned in LaCroix' arms and slid his arms around his sire's powerful neck, pulling him forward and bringing the full mouth down to his.

The older vampire hesitated for a second as Nick fiercely thrust his tongue into his mouth. It was almost imperceptible, but Nick caught it and felt a flicker of smugness when he realized that he'd surprised LaCroix with his enthusiastic response. The moment of being caught off-balance passed swiftly, however, and his sire responded with equal fervor. He flicked his tongue over Nick's swelling canines, drawing a deep growl of excitement from his son.

After the initial surge of heat and energy, their tempo eased a bit and they stood and simply kissed, allowing for a thorough exploration of each other's mouths. Moving almost lazily, Nick savored every inch of the tall, hard body pressed close against his. The slower pace gave his chaotic thoughts a chance to catch up with his runaway senses, and an unexpected idea hit him. Nick stopped and stepped away from his sire. He looked intently at LaCroix, then swept a quick look around the room.

Puzzled, LaCroix regarded him; his eyes washed with gold, lips parted and slightly swollen, breathing hard. A streak of blood was smudged across his mouth, darkening it. The sight triggered a fresh surge of desire in Nick, and he reached out and pulled LaCroix against him, again capturing his master's mouth with his. He luxuriated in the shiveringly pleasant sensation of his sire's body moving against him and the bright, coppery tang of mingled blood in their kiss. After a few minutes, Nick slowed his assault and pulled back a second time. He glanced around the room again, his eyes darting up into the corners. Understanding dawned in LaCroix' eyes and he laughed.

"Looking for the concealed video camera, Nicholas?"

Caught, Nick smiled a little sheepishly, shrugged, and nodded.

"Something like that, yes."

LaCroix chuckled. "Now, Nicholas. I wouldn't be that unimaginative, would I? To simply retaliate with a variation on your original theme? This is not being recorded in any way, and you have my word that we are quite alone, unheard and unobserved. Unless you've acquired a cat since I was last here."

Nick relaxed a bit. Perhaps LaCroix was serious, and all he wanted out of this was a more satisfying encounter. Perhaps he'd realized that, as far as any cosmic scoreboard went, he was still well ahead of Nick in the cruel trick department. _Perhaps,_ Nick thought, _I should shut my personal Greek chorus up for a while and just enjoy myself._

LaCroix reached out and curved one hand around the back of Nick's head, threading his fingers through the thick golden waves. Hooking his other hand into the waistband of Nick's jeans, he began pulling his son toward him. Eyes gleaming avidly, Nick's lips parted slightly, displaying the tips of his fangs. He moved eagerly in to resume their embrace.

He reached around the older vampire's waist and pulled the back of LaCroix' shirt free, sliding his hands up under it to feel the skin of his back. As he remembered, it was smooth and flawless, covering hard bands of muscle formed in campaigns launched against Nick's forebears twenty generations before his birth.

Curling his fingers in, Nick felt his nails just barely penetrate the silky surface, inhaling deeply as the scent of his sire's blood reached him. LaCroix hissed against his shoulder and Nick felt blade-sharp teeth prick his skin there, barely a sting. Then a cool tongue moved over the spot, licking up the minuscule sample of his son's essence. Nick felt a shudder run through the powerful body and the arms around him tightened as his master reacted to his first taste in years of the long-denied elixir that coursed through his favorite creation. For the first time, Nick felt a pang of uncertainty---_exactly what am I unleashing here_\---then shoved his doubts away. He brought one of his hands out from behind LaCroix' back, fingertips smeared with red. Eyes intent on his master's, he brought the fingers to his mouth and licked at the blood, smiling at the burst of warmth it sent through him and the way LaCroix' eyes flickered amber, then ochre as he watched Nick suck his fingers clean.

Intoxicated on the taste of his master's mouth and skin, Nick was more than ready to take things to a more serious level. The increasing urgency of LaCroix' caresses indicated to him that his master was probably in a similar state. Dismayed, Nick realized that that simply the excitement from his erection rubbing against LaCroix' through their clothing had him almost to the point where he was going to embarrass himself again before he even got his shirt off.

Marshaling his self-control, he moved away from his master, who made a faint sound of protest as he did. Looking into LaCroix' incandescent eyes, Nick realized that his sire was almost as badly off as he was. Taking a deep breath, he indicated the couch with his chin and said hoarsely,

"Let's take this over there, and see about that recompense, oui?" LaCroix regarded him, smiling, then nodded slowly and murmured, "Oui, amant. Let's do that."

Moving to stand in front of the couch, they carefully undressed each other, pausing for brief intermissions of caressing and tonguing between the removal of each garment. Dropping the last article of LaCroix' clothing on top of the pile of black garments next to their feet, Nick paused for a moment to regard his master. A look of deep satisfaction on his face, he studied the lean, powerfully-muscled form, once almost as familiar to him as his own. LaCroix was silently looking him over with a very similar expression.

Nick felt a keen pang of sorrow that things hadn't been like this for such a long time. He moved in, slipping his arms around his sire's waist and molding his body against him. After another long kiss, LaCroix placed gentle hands on Nick's shoulders and guided him very willingly down to the couch. Sinking down into the cushions, Nick stretched out on his back and purred. The feel of the buttery soft leather under his skin was delicious, the silky weight of LaCroix' naked body settling down on top of his even more so. He sighed luxuriously, soaking in every sensation, indulging his vampiric senses instead of suppressing them as he normally did.

It was good, so good just to feel LaCroix' hands on him, the long, lean body pressed against Nick's, the sensitive fingers remapping the contours of his body after their long absence. So good, the touch of his own kind---this one in particular---to be able to throw himself into lovemaking without having to worry about losing control. LaCroix wanted him out of control, he always did.

Nick's connection with his sire was still mostly dormant, but he was beginning to catch more and more flashes of his master's increasing arousal. LaCroix began a thorough exploration of Nick's throat, eliciting long moans of approval as he unerringly went to the most exquisitely sensitive areas and lingered there.

Not to be outdone, Nick let his hands wander to certain sensitive areas of his master's own. He ran his hands along the familiar body, caressing and teasing in ways that he remembered used to make LaCroix crazy with pleasure. From the soft noises his master began to make against the skin of Nick's throat, and the way he shuddered, then began to squirm on top of him, Nick's memory was quite intact.

Someone knocked loudly on the front door. The two vampires froze in mid-grope, panting harshly, staring into each other's slightly glazed yellow eyes. Before either one of their lust-muddled minds could wrap itself around the concept that there was actually someone at the door, the knock came again, then the door lock clicked and they heard the loft door open.

"Nick? Hey, Nick, did you fall asleep?" It was Nat's voice. Nick stared at LaCroix, wide-eyed, an expression of mingled panic and rage rushing into his eyes.

_*LaCroix!*_ The furious accusation lanced across their tenuous connection.

*........* His master's response was a nonvocal mix of astonishment and frustration. LaCroix' eyes widened as they met Nick's and he shook his head in a fierce negative, distress writ plain on the patrician features. Nick realized that his sire was just as surprised as he was.

Then it hit him and he hissed, "Shit...!!" Nick remembered, now. A few days ago he had invited Nat to drop by after the end of her Wednesday night shift if she wasn't too tired, to watch old movies with him. At the time Nick had intended to make it an opportunity to talk with her about his decision to stop actively seeking a cure.

_What an idiot, how could I forget?_

LaCroix was still straddling his hips and Nick dug his fingers into his master's hard-muscled thighs, instinctively moving to dump him off and make a try for flying upstairs: although he already knew as he moved that it was far, far too late to get away unnoticed.

His sire pushed him back down into the cushions, hard enough to make Nick's breath escape in a whoosh, and shot a harsh, imperative *Lie still!* through their muddied link. Nick almost shoved him off anyway, then reconsidered and froze instead.

This entire exchange had taken place within a few seconds. As Nat turned around from pushing the door shut, LaCroix sat up straight, turned and rested his forearms on the back of the couch. The picture of relaxation, he looked benignly at Natalie as she took one step into the room and stopped dead, staring at him, eyes wide.

"Dr. Lambert, what a surprise. I wasn't expecting you."

A habit Nick had given up centuries ago revived itself, and he began to pray that Nat would not walk far enough into the living room area to get a look at him. Thanks to his restless furniture rearranging of the last several weeks, the couch now sat with its back to the loft's front door. There was a bare chance...if LaCroix could resist the temptation to take advantage of such an easy opportunity for a devastatingly thorough revenge.

Nick softly ran his hands up along his sire's thighs and stopped, nails resting lightly on the tender crease between torso and thigh, his warning implicit. The light amusement he was gleaning from LaCroix through their tenuous connection did nothing to reassure him.

He closed his eyes and tried to will his arousal to subside---it would add another entire layer to his mortification if Nat discovered him not only naked on the couch with LaCroix astride him, but also displaying a huge and obvious erection. However, his body wasn't cooperating---if anything, the added danger of discovery was, perversely, making him more excited. He shifted a bit, trying to get more comfortable, then realized that was a mistake when his rigid organ rubbed lightly against LaCroix' as he moved. Looking up, he saw LaCroix close his eyes for a second, inhaling, and felt the intense ripple of pleasure it sent through the older vampire transmit itself back to him along their link. Nick grimaced, and went absolutely still.

Natalie tried not to gape at the man, but it wasn't easy. It was the first time she'd ever seen LaCroix not dressed in black from foot to chin. What the hell was he doing in Nick's apartment, lounging shirtless on Nick's couch? And why was he looking so...distracted? After his initial cool greeting, the ancient vampire now seemed to be ignoring her, gazing at some vague point over her head, his pale eyes slightly unfocused. Then he seemed to find his concentration again and turned his bright gaze on her, full lips curved in a slight smile.

Casual was a word Nat had never associated with the old vampire before this--but this was about as casual as you could get. It was difficult to resist the temptation to stare, particularly at the broad white shoulders and the hard, rolling muscles in the crossed arms resting on the back of the couch. _Huh. I had no idea..._ She shook her head, cutting that train of thought short and glared at the smirking vampire. Nat had a strong feeling that he knew exactly what was going through her mind. Anger rose in her throat and she snapped out,

"Where's Nick?"

LaCroix hesitated, and Nick tightened his hold, digging his nails in very lightly.

"Ah. He's out. I'm not sure where. I was hoping to find him at home myself, actually. I'm sure he's all right, I would know if he wasn't. Perhaps you could drop back in a little while, Doctor? Say, this evening?"

"Oh please, LaCroix. What, did he have to go out to the store for milk? It's daylight outside! Where is he? And what the hell are you doing in Nick's apartment when he's not here?"

Nick winced. The presence of LaCroix in the loft without Nick in evidence---when she was expecting Nick to be there waiting for her---was setting off all of Nat's alarm bells and sending her into full protective mode. If Nat saw him, it would certainly not help their friendship get back onto a more even keel....all she had to do was walk a few feet closer, or to the right or the left and the jig would most definitely be up. Nick was profoundly grateful that his and LaCroix' clothing had ended up piled on the floor in front of the couch instead of scattered all around the room.

Nat was highly suspicious, and starting to become frightened. Also, she was beginning to speculate, though she was trying very hard not to, that LaCroix---obviously bare to the waist---might not be wearing anything below that, either. It was a disturbing idea that should have been simply repellent, but was also somehow rather fascinating.

LaCroix decided it was time to end this now, before the good doctor became more than an inconvenience to his plans. He turned straw-colored eyes on her and purred through lengthening teeth.

"You know, Doctor Lambert, we never have had the chance to *really* talk. Why don't you come over here and sit with me, and we can get to know each other a little better..." His eyes shifted to feral gold and he smiled at her like a tiger.

Nat backed up, despite herself. Suddenly furious, she glared at LaCroix, digging into her pocketbook. She hauled her keychain out and fumbled with it, working the loft key off of the sturdy ring.

"No, I don't think so. You can give Nick a message for me, though, when he does get back. Tell him I don't need this anymore, and next time I'll call and make sure he's actually going to be here when he asks me to drop by." She finally succeeded in wrestling the key off the ring and tossed it onto the kitchen table. It skidded across the table and fell to the floor with a metallic clink.

Nick winced when he heard the key hit the floor and without thinking, started to sit up. LaCroix tightened his thighs, holding him still with an effort, and schooled his features into careful neutrality as he watched the good doctor's fuming retreat.

The door to the loft slammed shut. Nick groaned miserably and pushed at his master, his arousal wilting under the rush of guilty remorse that flooded him when he heard the angry, tearful hurt in her voice.

"Get off me, LaCroix. I've got to go after her and catch her before she leaves, try to explain..."

"Explain, Nicholas?" The arched eyebrows raised quizzically. "I'd like to hear that explanation." Nick growled in frustration and shoved him. LaCroix moved off of Nick and stood up, watching his angry, flushed protégé through narrowed eyes.

Moving quickly, Nick reached down, scooped up his pants and shirt, and started pulling the shirt on. Halfway through doing this, he stopped and closed his eyes. He inhaled deeply, then slowly let the breath out, eyes still shut. Growling a single harsh expletive, he slipped the half-donned shirt back off and dropped it to the floor, along with the pants.

Of course, LaCroix was right. There was simply no story he could think of right this second to explain why he hadn't made his presence known while Nat was here. As he realized this, he also became more aware of his own still-aroused state and admitted to himself that she probably wouldn't be safe around him anyway, even if he could think up a plausible story. Distantly, he heard the door in the front entryway slam shut, and knew that it was too late now, anyway.

"Damn." He started toward one of the shuttered windows and stopped halfway there, not knowing exactly what he should do.

"By the way, you're welcome, Nicholas. Am I staying or leaving?"

Surprised, Nick turned to look at his master. LaCroix was standing and regarding him, his pale eyes hard. Nick dropped his head down, closed his eyes and took another long, deep breath. Then he looked up and smiled apologetically. Walking to the older vampire, he slid his arms around the taller man's neck.

"I'm sorry, LaCroix. Thank you. You got me out of a bad situation. Again."

Now it was LaCroix' turn to look surprised. Chagrined, Nick realized he had good reason to be. Freely expressed gratitude from his son was rare as hen's teeth, and usually much harder to find. Nick could see that the ease with which he spoke the words had taken the old vampire quite aback.

"You...are welcome, Nicholas." He looked at Nick thoughtfully, then in a gentler tone repeated his question. "Am I staying, or leaving?"

The words shook Nick the rest of the way out of his remorseful fog. Things shifted into proportion, and he suddenly realized what he was doing by haring off after Nat immediately---automatically grasping an excuse to stop himself from enjoying something. In particular, from enjoying an indulgence of his vampiric senses. Which was pointless. Of course he could talk to Natalie later. In fact, it would be better if he did. Right now, he had other business.

Reaching down, he grasped LaCroix' hand and brought it up to his mouth, gently kissing the fingertips. Silently, the other vampire watched him, his breath slowing almost to a standstill as Nick placed his lips over the end of his little finger and his tongue flickered against it. Leaving the hand, Nick began tracing an intricate pattern with the tip of his tongue from the inside of his master's wrist up toward his elbow. The old vampire did not move, only watched him intently. Raising his head for a moment, Nick murmured,

"No, please stay. I'm sorry. It's just frustrating..." then dipped his head back down to continue. He stopped to idle on the tender skin at the crook of his sire's elbow, drinking in his unique, heady scent. Cool fingertips under his chin drew him away and up. His sire looked carefully into his eyes, and evidently approved of what he saw. Nick felt tension uncoil itself in the tall body as the other vampire relaxed.

LaCroix smiled, then dipped his head down and began to drop light kisses around the base of Nick's throat. Nick closed his eyes and brought a hand up to caress the back of his master's strong neck, muttering as he did,

"I've been trying to find time to tell her about some important things. I can't believe I forgot that I asked her to come by today."

LaCroix continued his ministrations without missing a beat as Nick spoke, making small sympathetic noises in his throat as he did. Squirming a bit as the kisses became mingled with light nips and tongue touches, Nick recognized the distant tone in his master's voice and knew he was wasting his breath. LaCroix was not listening to a single word and could not possibly care less if his friendship with Natalie foundered. For some reason, though, instead of infuriating Nick as it usually would, he found his master's cavalier attitude almost endearingly familiar.

A particularly delicate caress involving tongue and teeth at one of the more sensitive areas of his neck made him moan out loud. His knees gave way slightly as a wave of sheer arousal traveled down from his throat to his groin, hardening his erection to the point of near pain. LaCroix chuckled against his throat as Nick sagged, leaning all his weight against him.

"I remember that particular spot always got through to you, amant,"

Nick silenced him with an intense kiss, opening his sire's mouth with his tongue and tasting the cool interior. He broke the kiss after a few moments and looked at LaCroix, eyes brimming with rekindled heat.

"We were somewhere important, I think---oh, yes. Over here."

He took his sire's hand and led him, unprotesting, back to the couch.  
Gently, he pushed on LaCroix' shoulders, encouraging him to sit down. As he did, Nick followed him, sinking gracefully to his haunches, hands on his master's knees. Pushing them apart, he leaned in to flick the tip of his tongue over the head of LaCroix' erect shaft, enjoying the salty, coppery taste of the droplets gathered there. Then he took the thick shaft into his mouth, sliding his lips down slowly, enjoying the musky scent and flavor of his old lover's arousal. He drew his head up, slowly letting the rigid organ slide out of his throat and mouth, then moved back down to take it in again, adding a bit of suction this time. Sighing, the other vampire let his head fall back, and groaned,

"Yes, Nicholas...that's good...oh, that's very...ah, so good."

Nick felt his own cock jump as he listened, and couldn't help reaching down with one hand and stroking himself lightly as he continued to work on his master, keeping a constant pace.

For a little while LaCroix stayed relatively quiet, his head dropped back, eyes closed, hands restlessly stroking Nick's hair and face. Nick could feel tension building in his sire's thighs and stomach muscles, though, and realized it wouldn't be long. Suddenly LaCroix leaned forward, pulling Nick up and off him to collect a kiss. During the kiss, he reached down and gave his son's rigid cock a little squeeze and brief fondle, drawing a sharp hiss from the younger vampire. Nick groaned in disappointment when the kiss ended and LaCroix took his hand away. He pulled back and looked up at his master through pupils dilated so wide the irises were the thinnest rings of brilliant gold around the black, like the corona of an eclipse.

As he dropped his head back down to take LaCroix into his mouth again, Nick reached down to resume stroking himself. The old vampire intercepted his hand and drew it back up to rest on one of his thighs, covering it with his own. Protesting, Nick looked up into his sire's amused face, his pupils dilated so wide with arousal that the irises were the thinnest rings of brilliant gold around the black, like the corona of an eclipse. LaCroix raised his eyebrows at him, looking amused.

"Just helping you maintain your control, Nicholas. You don't want to finish too soon again, do you? I'm just keeping you from accidentally overstimulating yourself."

"You're too thoughtful", growled Nick, and bent his head to engulf his master's rigid organ again, the growl lingering and sending vibrations down to its roots. LaCroix dropped his head back and moaned. His long fingers began to move restlessly through Nick's hair and over his face again, trembling lightly as LaCroix' pleasure intensified. Nick released him and moved down to carefully draw first one firm testicle into his mouth, then the other, rolling them around a bit. As he did, he used one hand to continue stroking LaCroix' erection, the other hand slipping in behind the drawn-up silken pouch to massage the area behind it.

The lean, powerful hips began to move involuntarily and LaCroix began to make small, guttural noises. The hands on his head began to tremble as they continued running through his hair, fondling him. Nick felt him begin to tighten up, and left off mouthing his balls to move up and take the straining organ in his mouth again. He moved up and down its length a few times, applying pressure along its length with his busy tongue. LaCroix shuddered and cried out, then released pulse after pulse of blood-tinged fluid down his ready throat. He held on to the moving hips tightly, milking the last of his sire's ejaculate from the spasming organ and savoring its long-missed taste as he did.

The lean hips finally stopped thrusting and stilled. He drew away and looked up at his ancient lover. LaCroix' head had fallen back against the couch, eyes closed and lips parted, displaying fully extended fangs. The pale chest was heaving and Nick could feel the tremors chasing through the other's body as he slowly came back to awareness. Raising his head, LaCroix opened golden eyes and looked down at his sulfur-eyed son.

"So, am I forgiven?" Nick grinned.

LaCroix reached down and grasped Nick's arms, drawing him up to   
sit astride his lap. Smiling, eyes hooded and deceptively sleepy-looking, he pulled the younger vampire in against him for a long and thorough kiss. Releasing him, he murmured,

"Almost completely, mon delice. Almost completely."

"Almost? Hmmm."

Inwardly, Nick sighed in relief, astonished at the surge of genuine happiness he felt at the words. He was also surprised that LaCroix had not struck for his blood yet. It seemed that LaCroix was going to wait for it, though he couldn't think why. Nick closed his eyes and groaned as long, strong fingers closed around his erection and squeezed gently. Opening his eyes again, his luminescent gaze roved over his master's face, and he reached out to trace the outline of his mouth.

"How do we get to fully?"

LaCroix smiled, and drew him close, embracing him and moving to whisper against his ear. "I'll show you, fils, right now."

Still embracing him, his sire slid from the couch to the floor, pulling Nick along with him. His master moved to lie on top of him, settling his full weight on the younger vampire's body. Nick welcomed the pressure and the almost excruciating pleasure of his rampant shaft rubbing against the hardening silk of LaCroix' returning erection, both organs trapped together between their hard-muscled bellies. Nick moaned and slid his arms around the lean, powerful body, trying to pull his master even more firmly against him, to encourage him to move, to intensify the sensations roiling from his groin up his spine, making him light-headed with pleasure.

This was what he'd been fantasizing about over the past weeks---actually it was better than what he'd been fantasizing about over the past weeks---and the fact that it was actually happening made him a little dizzy, made everything seem just a little bit unreal. Only this man, he realized, could give him this all-encompassing pleasure, knew his body's reactions better than he himself did, and could play his nerves like a fine instrument.

The old vampire sat up, astride Nick's waist this time, running his hands along Nick's sides. He purred and arched his back slightly as the golden hair on Nick's belly tickled the underside of his revived erection. Nick looked up at him, purring himself as he felt his rigid shaft brush against the older vampire's buttocks. He squirmed, running his hands along the inside of LaCroix' thighs and brushing them lightly along the thick shaft. "LaCroix, please," he murmured, more than ready to reach his own release. "Enough teasing. Come on..."

LaCroix smiled broadly at that and ran his hands down Nick's arms. He grasped Nick's hands, bringing them up suddenly above the younger vampire's head. His lips closed over Nick's and his tongue snaked into his son's mouth. Nick responded in kind, moaning, his excitement and anticipation of his incipient orgasm and feeding growing sharper by the moment.

LaCroix' grip on his wrists suddenly turned to iron, and he moved with a speed blinding even to Nick. Before a preoccupied Nick had time to register that something new was happening, cold bands closed around his wrists and he heard two sharp clicks.

The noise acted like a dash of ice water on him and he pulled his hands down sharply, only to have them stop above his head, held by what seemed to be very sturdy metal bonds. He glared angrily at his smug-looking master.

"LaCroix! What are you doing?"

The old vampire smiled benevolently at him. "I'm simply introducing another element into our play, Nicholas. Don't worry, I think you'll enjoy it. I know I will."

Nick growled, infuriated, and tried to draw himself up toward the couch so he could get purchase to try and break free. Anticipating this, LaCroix was ready and grabbed him firmly by the hips, jerking him down so that his arms were stretched straight, almost uncomfortably taut, above his head. Then he moved down and took hold of Nick's legs, smiling into his son's angry and somewhat apprehensive red eyes. Nick made another attempt to break the bands, then grabbed the thick chain connecting them and yanked viciously. They didn't give an inch, and he craned his head around, trying to get a good look at the bonds LaCroix had clamped onto him.

The dark gray bands around his wrist were thick, heavy and looked to be made of reinforced steel, as did the chain running between them.

_What the Hell has he got this attached to?_ Nick thought, squirming around and gaining another half-inch of vision. The massive chain stretched back about a foot from the cuffs and was threaded through a huge eye hook screwed firmly into the floor. Indignantly, Nick said,

"LaCroix! What do you think you're doing? How deep in the floor did you fix that?" Laughing at his son's offense at his vandalism, LaCroix said.

"I believe it's through the concrete into the next floor, Nicholas. It took a bit of effort to get it there, too. It's a good thing you were gone so long looking for me."

"Damn it, LaCroix!"

"Nicholas! Don't be so whiny, it's only a floor...just keep the couch over it if you don't want to work the hook out. Personally, I'd keep it...it's always good to be prepared for anything." He continued, a note of pride creeping into his cultured voice. "I had them specially made--the company produces mooring equipment for ocean liners, freighters, that sort of thing. They normally drive those into piers for tying large boats up to...I wouldn't bother, amour, I'm not sure I could break them myself. Not without a fair amount of time and some excellent leverage..." he added, watching as Nick wrapped his hands around the chains and tried parting them again.

The effort was fruitless, and Nick stopped pulling at the chains and glowered at his smiling master. _New rule, Nicholas,_ he thought. _Next time, don't give him a month to prepare._ Nick snarled at his elder, and in response LaCroix dropped a gentle kiss onto his knee then looked back up at him, still smiling, eyes glittering playfully. Continuing to hold on to Nick's legs, LaCroix moved his thumbs lightly over the skin of his son's thighs, watching him carefully and basking in his angry glare. He dipped his head down and began softly licking Nick's thigh, just above his knee.

The harsh red tones in Nick's eyes began to shade back to ocher, then gold, as he watched his sire carefully lave the insides of his thighs. His arousal, which had receded during his angry outburst, flared up again full force as he watched LaCroix tongue him intimately, moving gradually up toward his groin. He groaned in protest when his master bypassed his straining cock, coming within inches of, but never actually touching it, and moved to his lower belly instead. The cool tongue lingered around his navel for a minute before proceeding higher. He moved up along Nick's body, occasionally inclining his head to kiss or lick at the finely-textured skin. When he reached Nick's chest, he leaned down and grabbed one nipple delicately between his teeth, nibbling lightly, then swirling his tongue around the tiny hard nub. His large, sensitive hands traveled slowly along his protégé's body, lingering here and there, stroking and petting. Nick was moaning now, squirming under his sire, becoming lost in sheer sensation again.

He wrapped his hands around the heavy chain and pulled against the restraints, more because he wanted to use his hands to actively encourage LaCroix, than because he wanted to be free of them. The element of being bound was adding a sharp spice to the flavor of the situation, mingled with the hovering nervous fear that there was still some impending painful hook to this, some further revenge his master intended to have.

LaCroix moved back and settled his weight over Nick's legs, effectively trapping him. He stretched out and rested his head on one hand, facing Nick. One hand reached out and stroked his son's bobbing erection, then moved down to gently roll his testicles around inside their tender pouch. Nick cried out and squirmed, driven maddeningly close to orgasm, but needing just a bit more...

Suddenly LaCroix removed his hand and moved up over Nick's body, reaching under the couch. One hand was planted firmly on Nick's chest, preventing him from trying to shift position. He came back out dragging a small bag and dropped back down to lie across Nick's thighs, trapping him again. Nick watched him, panting, eyes wide with sudden apprehension as he waited to see what kind of wicked toy his sire was going to produce.

LaCroix pulled out a thick hardcover book and tossed the bag away. Settling his weight securely over Nick's legs, he calmly opened the book and turned to the title page. As he opened it, Nick, looking down incredulously at his master, caught sight of the title. _War and Peace_.

"I thought we'd have a bit of an intermission, Nicholas. You don't mind, do you? I have so little time to indulge in reading nowadays. It shouldn't take me all that long to finish this---I'm sure I'll be done by sundown. Don't worry, I think I can keep you interested." He punctuated the last statement by reaching out and running a fingertip slowly down the underside of Nick's cock, then giving his scrotum a brief tickle before returning to his book.

Sundown was in roughly eight hours. Nick knew he'd be certifiably insane long before then. He groaned, and made a really laudable effort at trying to squirm out from under the other vampire. LaCroix didn't even close the book, he simply reached down with one arm and grasped Nick's thighs, tightening his hold and becoming an immovable weight pinning Nick's legs to the floor.

"Nicholas, really. That makes it very hard for me to concentrate. If I lose my place, you realize that I will have to punish you and start over again. Now be good, lie still---and wait."

 

Nick's first hope was that this was a joke and after a few minutes LaCroix would relent and give him his release. That hope faded as the minutes kept passing and LaCroix continued reading, to all appearances absorbed in the novel. Every once in a while, he would reach out without looking, and almost absent-mindedly stroke Nick's straining cock, giving it an occasional light squeeze. Then he would remove his hand and return his full attention to reading, ignoring his son's increasingly desperate state.

After the fifth time, Nick snarled and began to struggle again, hoping that if he managed to throw LaCroix off, maybe hurting him a little into the bargain, that his master would lose sight of his intentions and simply jump on him. It was a move that had proved fairly reliable in their distant past on occasions when LaCroix had wanted to extend their foreplay past what his young fledgling considered a humane length of time.

This time LaCroix was forced to put the book down in order to hang onto Nick's legs and prevent his protege from drawing either leg up into a position to kick him off. When Nick finally ran out of steam and stopped, he dropped his chin onto his son's thigh and sighed heavily. "Nicholas, really. You are making this difficult on yourself." He looked with regret into Nick's blazing eyes. "I did warn you to lie still, didn't I? I'm sorry, I think I'm going to have to...punish you a little, mon fils."

He stretched one arm out and reached over to snag his black leather trenchcoat, dropped earlier with artful carelessness at that precise spot. Rummaging in a pocket, he brought out a small glass bottle and uncapped it, looking mischievously down at the once-more apprehensive Nick. It was filled with a clear liquid. LaCroix dipped first one finger, then another, into it and rubbed his glistening fingertips together. The fragrance of cinnamon oil and other aromatic ingredients reached Nick's nostrils. LaCroix smiled at the wide-eyed vampire.

"Pleasant scent, isn't it? It's actually a type of herbal muscle liniment they produce in the Asian community, but it has some other interesting uses."

He slipped one hand under Nick's rump and lifted just a bit, positioning him. His other hand, fingers slick with oil, slid gently between the taut cheeks,

Gently, he rubbed a slick fingertip over the tight ring of muscle, smiling as Nick drew in a sharp breath at the sudden sensation of heat. Applying a little more oil to his fingers, his master rubbed him again, then carefully slipped a finger inside, then one more, moving them gently in and out. Nick gasped and started writhing as the warmth spread into him. After pausing for a moment, LaCroix began to slide them gently in and out.

Nick bit his lip, pushing his hips down with each stroke. Suddenly LaCroix turned his fingers and touched his prostate, moving his fingertips over it in a careful massage. Nick cried out and froze for a moment, then began to thrust against his sire's hands again, his movements increasingly urgent. LaCroix pressed expertly inward and continued stroking the sensitive gland. Nick yelled as the fingers massaged that internal pleasure spot, suffusing it with the glowing heat as well. Smiling contentedly, LaCroix moved his other hand to stroke Nick's erection, milking glistening drops of pinkish pre-ejaculate from the tip. He rubbed a thumb over the head of Nick's cock and Nick gasped out a curse in Belgian as his sire spread the slick droplets around in a polishing motion.

Several times Nick found himself at a point where he felt his orgasm beginning, but each time LaCroix moved his hand quickly down to the base of his rigid cock, pressing in with his fingertips at several precise spots with carefully controlled force. And Nick would feel his orgasm recede, leaving him balanced just short of it again, gasping and writhing as his sire began to stroke him again, both inside and out.

LaCroix spoke conversationally as he watched Nick's cock twitch and jump, mirroring the motions of his fingers. "The sensation would be much too severe for a human, but our capacity for healing turns it into something more stimulating than painful, wouldn't you say so?" Nick's response was inarticulate, and his sire smiled. "I'll take that as a yes, I think." LaCroix leaned forward and delicately licked at the dribble of fluid leaking from the head of his son's cock, closing his eyes to savor the taste. Then he withdrew his hands, carefully wiping any excess oil from his fingers on the rug before picking up his book. He looked up at Nick, who was breathing hard, his eyes shut and lips parted, trembling slightly.

"Now Nicholas, I wasn't going step up to this level of---intensity so soon. I'm not without mercy. But if you continue to be difficult, I may have to repeat this a few more times before I finish. So be good, mon fils, and wait." He settled back across Nick's legs, smiling, picked up his book and resumed reading.

Another hour passed. Nick was rapidly losing his mind. All of his being was now centered in the prolonged, aching arousal in his loins and fangs, and the increasingly overwhelming need to climax and feed. In an agony of frustration, he looked down at LaCroix, who was to all appearances still absorbed in his book. Nick noticed, however, that his master's own cock was hard and straining. He smiled to himself, feeling a glimmer of hope. Maybe he could persuade LaCroix to cut this short and give him some relief.

"Come on, LaCroix. Aren't you tired of reading? Wouldn't you rather be fucking me instead?" He felt a rush of triumph as he saw LaCroix' cock twitch and harden a bit more, and a few pinkish drops oozed from its head. He purred, noticing also that LaCroix had stopped turning pages.

"Come *on*. You've made your point, amant. Rub some of that stuff on yourself, and give it to me. As hard as you can. I want you inside of me, now---think how good that will feel." He squirmed sensually, regarding his master through hooded eyes, a predatory smile on his lips. "Then we can do it all over again. Come on, I'll do something much more interesting to you than that book will. "

LaCroix was silent and Nicholas struggled to hide the triumph that surged up inside him as he saw the old vampire visibly hesitate. Then LaCroix drew a slow, deep breath and brought his attention back to the novel. "I don't know, Nicholas." He leisurely turned a page, not looking up. "It's a very good book."

Nick snarled and began to struggle again. He unleashed a long string of antique Belgian curses at the unmoved LaCroix, who simply remained comfortably ensconced across his legs, still reading. Nick then proceeded to inform his master just what type of dubious sexual habits his forebears had obviously practiced, and further informed him of the even more dubious sexual habits he had long suspected his sire of indulging in when his children weren't watching.

The only sign LaCroix gave that he even heard Nick's shouted insults was that at one point he paused and furrowed his brows slightly, with the air of someone who was mentally filing a new and useful phrase. Then he calmly returned to his reading, but first reached out to give his son's straining erection a very light squeeze.

Nick finally stopped and sank back to the floor, exhausted and groaning. Desperate, he finally began to beg.

"LaCroix, please. Please, let me finish."

Without looking at him, LaCroix reached out and gently rubbed a fingertip in a small circle over the head of the straining cock, ignoring Nick's groan at the touch. He brought his finger away, glistening with reddish pre-ejaculate. Looking up from the book, he met Nick's gaze, put his hand up to his mouth and delicately licked his fingertip clean. He closed his eyes as the tangy fluid touched his tongue and shivered, his own erection jumping.

Nick dropped his head back, tossing it from side to side, moaning. He pleaded, tears in his eyes. "LaCroix, please, amant, please, don't leave me like this any longer...anything, take me in your mouth, fuck me, anything. I can't stand it any more."

With careful deliberation, LaCroix slowly closed the book and then tossed it away. He reached out lazily and began to stroke the underside of Nick's cock with the backs of his fingers. Serene pale eyes looked up and met Nick's gaze, incandescent with golden heat.

LaCroix smiled and levered himself up, moving over the other's body until his face was directly over Nick's. He lowered himself to place his lips against his son's mouth, and murmured, "So, Nicholas, may I have your word that you will never attempt anything like that again?"

Nick's lips curved into a grin against the light touch of his sire's mouth. "You have my word. I won't do that to you again." He slipped his tongue between LaCroix' lips and ran it across the sharp fangs before snaking in farther to dart against his sire's tongue. "Now, please…" he groaned into the other's mouth, his groin on fire.

LaCroix quickly kissed him, then moved down to take Nick into his mouth. One hand kept a firm hold on his son's writhing hips, the other moved around to slide first one, then a second finger into him again. Moving his fingers, he stroked the tiny gland again, his thumb pressing in behind the drawn-up testicles, massaging it from the outside as well, drawing a strangled cry from Nick. He drew his son's rigid organ deep into his throat then back out again, increasing his speed as Nick started to thrash under him, yelling.

It took only a half-dozen strokes, then Nick screamed, his entire body convulsing as he felt himself turn inside out with pleasure. He screamed again as his orgasm finally broke and he spasmed, released all the pent-up tension of the last month into the roaring wave of energy that flooded him as he simultaneously flooded his master's mouth with spurts of pale ruby fluid.

LaCroix drank eagerly, until he'd milked the last of it from the pulsing organ, then moved up past his son's blazing eyes and ready teeth to reach under the couch. He came out holding a tiny key and moved to Nick's manacled hands. Fingers trembling, LaCroix fumbled once with the key, then managed to turn it in first one tiny lock, then the other. The bands snicked open.

Freed, Nick's arms shot around his master's neck and back, one hand grasping the back of the old vampire's head and yanking it down to his throat with a force that would have cracked a mortal's skull and snapped the spine. His lips closed over the spot on his master's pale throat just over the great vein, and with a triumphant snarl sheared his razor teeth through the skin and into the pulsing artery beneath.

Blood flooded his mouth, hit the back of his throat, searing him with its power, and he began to swallow greedily. As he did, he felt LaCroix convulse against him, orgasm triggered by Nick's bite. Cool fluid sprayed across his stomach in pulses, and he heard LaCroix cry out his name. Twinned points of heat entered Nick's throat and he felt his own blood being drawn out into LaCroix' eager mouth.

His master's fierce blood coursed along his veins, spreading a glow through all his limbs. His nerves crackled with vitality as LaCroix' power and feral energy swept through him, and the inherent wildness in his own blood surged gleefully forward to mingle with it.

He felt LaCroix' delight as Nick's blood burned a path through his veins, mingling with his blood and being drawn back out into his son, then back into him. As the blood and sensations passing between them became increasingly conjoined, images and impressions began passing between them.

As always, there were too many fleeting impressions for Nick to make sense of or clearly discern. Some lodged themselves deep in his subconscious, to be partially deciphered later in dreams, some simply swirled by and were gone. LaCroix' blood moved through him in a smooth, relentless current, carrying knowledge from a vast corridor of years, stretching back farther than even Nick could imagine. He tasted his own blood, returned to him now through the wound in his sire's throat, its own brilliant fire and ardor braided tightly with the cool, sure power and unfailing passion in his sire's blood.

Nick groaned in sheer bliss and drank ferociously, drawing their blood back into him just as swiftly as his master, moaning in his own ecstacy, drew it back out. Their commingled blood flowed out, then back into Nick again, arcing wildly, dancing a caliginous reel through the chambers of his own feral heart, and he felt his heart leap along with it, fiercely joyful.

As the exchange went on, Nick found himself coming to a point he'd been at before in the past, and had always resisted. The point where thoughts and emotions in his master's blood became much sharper, less fleeting, and almost impossible to avoid seeing clearly.

He'd never dared, or really wanted, to try and see what lay in his master's infathomable heart. But, things were a little different now. Perhaps he was ready to see a little more deeply into his sire's soul. Nick stopped avoiding the knowledge he knew was flowing inside him, borne on the dark currents in his master's blood---and looked.

He gasped inwardly, for the first time tasting without resistance the frightful intensity of LaCroix' fierce appetite for him, the need that surpassed any other in the ancient heart. Something else, some even stronger emotion was moving behind that relentless desire, Nick realized. Something utterly terrifying in its depth and power---and it had to do with him.

Panicking, Nick realized that he'd been wrong; there was something here that he wasn't ready to know about yet, if ever. His mind curled in on itself and he retreated, back to the known and comfortable territory of pure shared physical sensation, uncomfortably aware that his master was aware of what had just happened.

LaCroix' teeth slipped from his throat, breaking the circuit, and a moment later Nick withdrew as well, shaking like a man with the palsy. He put a trembling hand up to his face, then drew it away, staring at the bloody smears on his fingertips. Astonished, he felt more tears running down his cheeks, and swiped hastily at his face.

He looked up and met his master's eyes. They looked into his with piercing intensity, and he saw the shadow of the knowledge he'd fled from moving behind the pale gaze. Nick was suddenly afraid that LaCroix was going to say something, was going to force him to talk about this, to reveal whatever it was that had made him retreat, and even worse, perhaps show him its twin hiding in his own soul.

Needing to break the moment before his master said anything, Nick winced, felt his shoulder and grinned feebly. "I think I broke something, LaCroix."

The emotion that had surfaced briefly in the pale blue eyes submerged again, and LaCroix raised an eyebrow at Nick, his veil of cool control firmly in place. Nick's gaze slid uneasily away from the ancient's grave regard. He was vastly relieved when LaCroix said dryly,

"Yes, I believe it was my collarbone when you grabbed my head, Nicholas."

Nick remembered the savage wrench he'd given his sire when yanking him down to tear into his throat. He grimaced slightly, reaching out to feel along the base of LaCroix' neck. "Sorry. It's not still bothering you, is it?" Looking amused, LaCroix shook his head slightly. "No, Nicholas, it's fine."

With that, his sire stretched luxuriously, then relaxed back to the carpet again, showing no further inclination to get up. He lifted his head slightly and regarded his son for a moment, then nodded at the shuttered windows.

"So, Nicholas. It's still quite a while until sundown. What would you like to do until then?"

Nick grinned tiredly, vastly relieved that they were back onto more familiar ground, and that LaCroix wasn't going to pursue what had happened during their intense blood exchange. He hauled himself up to lie half across the other vampire, enjoying the solid feel of his sire's frame as he settled on him. Exhausted, Nick let his head drop down onto LaCroix' pale chest and closed his eyes, murmuring,

"Give me a few minutes to recover, and we'll talk about it."

LaCroix closed his own eyes, then opened them a minute later and raised his head slightly to peer down at Nicholas. As he'd suspected, his son was sound asleep. LaCroix smiled ruefully, realizing that he'd just been promoted to mattress, probably until sunset.

Reaching up, he stroked the fine gold hair and studied the exquisite lines of his Nicholas' face. A faint shadow crossed his eyes, then was gone, leaving them almost serene. Sighing, he smiled, more genuinely this time. He gave his son's hair a final fond touch and relaxed, lowering his head back down to the much-abused carpet. Within minutes he was sound asleep as well.

 

An hour before sundown, Nick awoke, feeling utterly wiped out.

He lay on the floor, sprawled half over LaCroix' chest, breath whuffing out gently against his sire's throat. _It would take holy water to get me to my feet right now,_ he thought, looking at his sire. The pale skin of his throat was streaked with dried blood sweat, and without thinking, Nick reached out with the tip of his tongue and started to softly lick away the rusty marks.

After a minute of this, his sire shuddered, and woke up. He opened his eyes to peer at his son, who continued licking his throat clean without missing a beat, much as one contented housecat grooms another. When Nick had cleaned as much area as he could comfortably reach without moving, he shifted to snuggle a bit farther under the other vampire's chin and lay motionless.

LaCroix remained where he was under Nick's sprawled body, equally boneless, one arm resting lightly on the younger vampire's back. The fingers of his other hand twined limply through his son's tousled hair, and every so often he would move his fingers slightly in a mild caressing motion.

It was an old post-coital position of theirs, centuries old, a favored adjunct to a long bout of particularly exhaustive lovemaking. Nick thought, a little wonderingly, at how automatically they had both moved into it-the last time they had lain together like this was well over a century ago.

"Mmm." Nick drew in a deep breath, replete with the heady scent of sex, warm spices and their mingled blood. It made him feel utterly warm and relaxed. _It *would* take a bucket of holy water, or_ his train of thought froze as he heard footsteps outside mounting the stairs to the loft. _Or Nat dropping back in to check on me._

At the same time, LaCroix muttered in disgust, "Is that Doctor Lambert coming back to see if you're home yet?" He showed no inclination to move. Cursing, Nick picked his head up and looked blearily at the door, trying to pull himself together enough to fly upstairs before Nat got the door open this time. As he stirred, LaCroix tapped Nick on the shoulder, his eyes still closed.

"Nicholas. Remember, she left her key. Relax. She won't come in. You're not back yet. She will think I have left, or am simply not answering the door. You talk with her later tonight, if you wish. You don't have to move. I don't have to move. It's very simple."

Persuaded, Nick dropped his head back down onto the broad pale chest and closed his eyes as the steps arrived at the door. _Too heavy for Nat_ Nick thought.

A loud pounding on the door made both vampires twitch. A strident male voice with an unmistakable southern States accent bellowed,

"Nick! You awake? Hey, Knight! Come on, answer your door!"

Nick winced, then groaned, turning his face and hiding it against his master's chest. LaCroix shifted and murmured, "Hmm."

Making an effort, Nick lifted his head enough to see his sire's face clearly. The older vampire looked deeply thoughtful. Nick reached up and touched his chin, tracing his fingertips over it.

"LaCroix? What is it?"

His sire smiled gently at him. "Nothing, amant. I was merely debating whether or not I should bother with putting any clothes on before getting up and breaking your visitor's neck."

Nick blearily regarded the other vampire, trying to discern the seriousness of his threat. He decided it was probably a bluff on his master's part. LaCroix looked much too comfortable to be willing to expend that much effort just now.

A fresh spate of pounding shook the door.

"Your damn phone's off the hook, Knight! Reese wants us in ASAP; we got a hot one. Hey, Nick! Wake up, Godammit ! I know you're home!"

Nick groaned. LaCroix regarded him through half-open eyelids and muttered, "I unplugged your telephone. I didn't want us to be disturbed. Do you know who that man is and why he wants to die?"

Nick sighed, and sat up, rubbing a hand over his face.

"My new partner. You haven't met him yet. You don't want to, either."

LaCroix digested this bit of information for a moment, then sat up and pulled Nick against him for a quick kiss. A fresh series of poundings shook the heavy door. The old vampire leaned in and whispered kindly in Nick's ear,

"Would you like a new one?"

Groaning, Nick sagged back to the floor. His sire lay back down on his side, propping his head on one elbow, and regarded Nick.

"That wasn't exactly a no, Nicholas."

Another few seconds passed in silence, then Nick came out with a slightly reluctant "No...don't."

A string of curses came from behind the door, then the sound of paper ripping and some indeterminate rustling. With a tiny whisper, a folded-up piece of paper shot under the door and skittered to a halt about a foot into the room. Heavy steps retreated down the hall and clumped down the stairwell, fading away. Shortly after, their keen ears picked up the sound of the outer door slamming, then a vehicle gunning its engine and pulling sharply away from the building. Neither vampire stirred a muscle during this entire procedure.

"Lucky man," observed LaCroix, reaching out and idly running a fingertip along his son's collarbone. The fingertip paused at the hollow of Nick's throat, then ran down his chest, pausing to circle, then flick lightly against a nipple before continuing downward. Closing his eyes, Nick shivered. Then he reached down to capture his master's hand before it journeyed any farther southward. Real regret in his voice, he muttered,

"I'm sorry. I have to at least find out what's going on." He sighed, "I probably will have to go in. Reese never sent anyone to collect me before, something serious must be going on."

Nick rolled over and got slowly to his feet. Stretching luxuriously, he realized that he felt wonderful-relaxed and energetic. He grinned as he watched LaCroix stand up with the same sinuous grace. His sire walked to the door, bent down to pick the note up and looked at it, frowning. He raised an eyebrow and handed it silently to Nick, who started reading.

"Nick you Bone Head!   
Plug your fucking phone in when your on call, boy! Reese called us in early---multiple homicide downtown---we're on it."

Nick glanced up at LaCroix, who shrugged.

"Don't look at me, Nicholas. You know exactly where I've been for the past ten hours."

Lips quirking in a tiny smile, Nick continued to read.

"If we take that old car of yours Top's driving this time, I had enough of your chauffering. Haul ass partner!"

LaCroix raised an eyebrow at him. "Top?"

"His dog." Nick looked mildly indignant, and LaCroix chuckled. Crumpling the note up and tossing it away, Nick sighed.

"I do have to go in. I'm sorry, I wanted us to spend time together this evening. Perhaps I could see you later tonight?"

"I'd like that very much, Nicholas. I have a few questions of my own for you. Come and see me when you're done playing defender of the public." LaCroix cocked his head to one side, considering, then slanted a mischievous look sideways at Nick. "Hmm, a multiple homicide. That does sound interesting. On second thought, maybe I should call in sick."

"No," said Nick firmly, ignoring the offended look LaCroix immediately assumed for his benefit. "Thank you for offering, but I think I can take care of it." His master shrugged and looked as innocent as possible, which was hardly at all. Nick grinned at him.

"I really need a shower. You are welcome to join me and save time."

LaCroix smiled, "I'm always for saving time, Nicholas."

He slipped an arm around his sire's waist, and said as they headed for the stairs, "I know one thing, old man. You're wearing those cuffs next time." LaCroix snorted and looked at him, amused. "You're certainly welcome to try and get them on me, Nicholas. Good luck."

Nick just smiled sweetly back and filed the thought away under future plans.

 

Later that night, Nick parked in the deserted lot outside CERK and walked to the side entrance. The door was unlocked, and he slipped inside, shaking his head at the lax security. Anyone could just stroll in off the street. Then he shrugged, realizing that if anyone broke into the studio it would be their bad luck, not LaCroix'. Actually, Nick supposed it was possible LaCroix sometimes deliberately left the door open.

His sire leaned back in his chair and gave him an inscrutable look as he watched Nick stride into the broadcast room. Lazily, he reached out and flicked the broadcast switch over to music.

"You're looking---energetic, Nicholas."

"I feel good," explained Nick, grinning. He crossed the room and stooped to give his bemused sire a quick, affectionate kiss. "I thought I'd come and catch you here before you left for home, and invite you to my place for the day. We can finally have a chance to sit down and just...talk."

"You could have called me on the phone to ask me that, Nicholas. Any particular reason you wanted to say it in person?"

Nick gave him a wicked smile, his eyes dancing. "I thought we could maybe have a little practice for the next blow job show."

LaCroix smiled, then reached out in a flash, grabbed the front of his jacket and yanked sharply. Nick lost his footing and sprawled forward against the seated vampire. LaCroix held him firmly, both hands firmly knotted in his jacket. Nose to nose, his baleful yellow eyes looked directly into Nick's and he growled.

"It's not good to live too dangerously, Nicholas. Let's say it's forgiven, but not forgotten, hm?"

Nick smiled, and started to unbutton the old vampire's shirt. He lowered his head to drop a kiss and a gentle nip on the pale skin revealed, and murmured, "I can live with that."

Letting his weight slide, he got a firm grip on his master's neck and began dragging him off the chair. LaCroix followed him down to the floor, but Nick noticed that he looked carefully at the console before he did. He laughed, and pulled the old vampire down on top of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Quel emmerdeur = What a pain in the ass!
> 
> Full credit for the idea about the roses goes to the marvelous Leslie Grant-Smith, who let me use it. Thanks, Leslie!
> 
> And many thanks to April for her wonderful beta-ing superpowers. Always grateful for them.


End file.
